


The Great Owl is Always Watching

by Trams



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 04:31:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17073521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trams/pseuds/Trams
Summary: Victorian London.Billy wears a dress.And there's a secret society obsessed with owls.





	The Great Owl is Always Watching

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lazaefair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazaefair/gifts).



> I kind of took the prompt of Billy wearing a victorian ballgown and ran into an unexpected plot.
> 
> Also what's historical accuracy? I don't know them.

Goody is waiting in an uncomfortable chair in a room filled with fabrics of different kinds. If he tilts his head he can look through the open door to the other room but he can’t really see the people in there, he can hear them however.

“This is, without a doubt the stupidest plan you have ever had,” Billy says from the other room.

“Is it really?” Goody asks surprised. “More stupid than that time I tried to convince Rockefort that the sea bass I was trying to sell him was in fact an exotic fish from the east which would definitely cure his gout?”

He can hear Billy make a thoughtful noise and say: “That was really stupid as well.” Goody can perfectly picture Billy’s expression of questioning how and why he ended up with Goodnight as a partner - the how changed every time Goody drunkenly told the story in the pub and the why; well Goody still isn’t sure why Billy’s decided to stick around and he’s to much of a coward to ask.

“I’m coming out now,” Billy says, and even though he mutters it Goody can hear him add: “I feel ridiculous.”

Goody sits up a little straighter, anticipation building in his chest, he can’t really explain why he feels a slight sense of excitement. But when Billy opens the door and steps through Goody’s treacherous heart skips a beat. The ballgown Billy is wearing is in a deep red with details in black, a little bit of black lace around the low neckline; short sleeves covering his shoulders, and long black gloves; there is a lot of ruffles on the dress and while dress itself seems rather tight, the skirt is is large in the back, and Billy is moving a little more stiffly than usual. His hair is no longer in its usual topknot but let loose and hanging down to frame his face and Goody swallows before he finds his words again.

“You look stunning,” he says, before wondering if that is perhaps too much, and he should have said that Billy simply looks the part.

“I don’t need you to start lying,” Billy grumbles, his expression is stony and fierce, eyes dark with held back annoyance.

“What do you mean by start?” Goody says. “When did I ever stop? I lie continuously every day, starting from morning. You know I don’t actually like your scrambled eggs, _you_ don’t even like them. I don’t know why we keep having them for breakfast.”

“Because you’re the one who insisted we buy those hens,” Billy says.

“We should just eat them,” Goody says but they both know he doesn’t mean it. But he did mean it when he said Billy looked stunning. “I am not lying about that dress on you though,” Goody says. “You will fool them all.”

Billy doesn’t look convinced, but before either of them can say anything more, Leni pushes past Billy and into the room.

“Children fidget less than this one during their fittings,” she says, good naturedly and then looks between Billy and Goody with a satisfied expression. “So are you happy about it?” She asks, sounding like she already expects them to say yes. “It is a little bit looser than fashion would have it as per request.”

Goody has come to her for a lot of strange orders, he doesn’t even think this is the strangest of them, but she always accepts the challenge with a smile and reassurances that she can pull it off, and never asks any questions. Possibly because Goody introduced her to her fiance, or perhaps because he always pays handsomely; he likes to think its a little bit of both - perhaps at heart he is a bit of a romantic still.

“It’s perfect,” Goody says. She nods satisfied, and they both turn to look at Billy. “Though your hair,” Goody says _“as lovely as it is”_ he simply thinks, as he’s always balancing on the edge of properity, and he worries he keeps stepping over the line when it comes to Billy, but he can’t help himself.

“We will have to ask Emma to come over and do it,” Billy says, turning to one of the full length mirrors and putting a hand to his hair. The dress rustles as he turns, and Goody gets to see him from the back, and how long his hair actually is. He is perhaps not as subtle as he should be, eyeing Billy, and he flushes slightly when Billy turns back to him and locks eyes with him. He leans back in the chair and pretends like nothing.

“You are going to need to dress up as well,” Billy says, “if you are going to accompany me.”

“I don’t have time to get anything new, but Leni was going to mend one of my jackets,” Goody says and Leni nods.

“I’ll go fetch it right away,” she says before leaving.

“Where am I supposed to keep my knives?” Billy mumbles as soon as she’s out of earshot, and he pulls up the skirt of the gown slightly showing off an ankle. Goody turns his head away reflexively.

“Seriously?” Billy asks, and Goody coughs a little turning back to face a raised eyebrow, and a lowered skirt hem that’s brushing the floor once more.

“Why do you think you need the knives?” Goody asks instead. “How often have you needed them in the past?”

Billy’s eyebrows, the other one joining the first one, creeps even higher, but otherwise his face remains passive.

“Every time,” Billy says. “They have been needed for every single one of your plans.”

“Not when I sold the fish you didn’t,” Goody protests. It had been a weak plan he admitted, and it hadn’t worked as the distraction he had hoped due to an unexpected interruption, but it had kind of worked in other ways. 

Billy looks unimpressed. 

“Here it is,” Leni says coming back into the room, and Goody stands up accepting the black jacket. He puts it on and looks it over, noticing something on the lapel.

“What’s this?” he asks, pointing at a stylized owl embroidered in black thread on the lapel, almost invisible, and he’s surprised he even noticed it. Leni steps in closer to take a look.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she says, “this belongs to a different customer. You have very similar builds. I’ll go get yours.”

“Maybe you could hide one in your hair?” Goody suggests, when she’s gone again. “Emma will give you some fancy updo and who knows what you might be able to fit there.”

Billy looks like he’s considering it as he turns back to the mirror.

“Explain again why we can’t use one of our usual infiltration tactics.”

“Because it will be impossible to blend in with the staff, and besides we need the sort of access only a foreign dignitary can get.”

“ _I’m sorry i don’t understand the language and didn’t mean to enter a restricted area_?” Billy says.

“Exactly.”

“And I am doing this because…”

“I don’t want to shave.”

“I could go as a foreign dignitary who is also a man,” Billy grumbles.

“But a lady will be less suspicious.”

Goody can hear him sigh, but it's the sigh of resignation. While it is Goody’s plan, Billy had been the one to bring the case to them and he already knew it was the best approach, even if it was perhaps a bit strange.

***

Billy has listened to Goody tell many different fantastical and barely believable stories of how they met, always exaggerating, always elaborating and making up new things, he even incorporates recent incidents into the story - and Billy hopes that this event won’t eventually make it into one of these stories - Billy always listens in silence while Goody entertains his crowd over a game of cards in the pub. One that he seems to tell a lot of times with different details changed is how he saw Billy fight, the number of opponents always growing with every telling of the story. But there is also the one where Billy was sent to assassinate him due to a mistaken identity, but Goody supposedly fought him to a standstill and so impressed with him Billy decided to accompany Goody back to England to act as his bodyguard - _“that made no sense,”_ Billy had said later, surprised at how easy Goody’s audience had bought it.

In the beginning there had been a sting of discomfort in BIlly’s chest, a vague wondering feeling if Goody found the actual truth of their meeting boring, because while perhaps it wasn’t the sort of meeting that would be fitting in a book, it held great significance to Billy, because meeting Goody had changed his life.

He isn’t sure exactly when he starts to feel differently, can’t remember when he began to make suggestions, not in public, but later on when they return to their shared house he will make his own suggestions to the stories - “If you were so good at fighting that you could impress me shouldn’t I be honing your skills.” “What do you suggest?” “well randomly attacking you to make sure you never let your guard down could be a way” - always earning him a smile from Goody and a _“that’s a great idea!”_ and he feels not just proud the next time something he has mentioned makes its way into Goody’s fabricated story of their first meeting, but also there is that growing affection that he can’t deny.

Almost everyone assumes Goodnight Robicheaux met his silent companion overseas and brought him back with him, no one even considers that they might have met in England, that a case of mistaken identity brought Goody into Billy’s life, this white man who intrigued Billy from the first meeting, and he was the one deciding to follow him to London ensuring he wouldn’t be returning home any time soon. However Goody definitely uses people’s assumptions when he comes up with the stories, because he did travel to the east, he doesn’t speak of it with Billy a whole lot and again in the pubs he prefers to frequent - despite his family’s standing and the many many invites to the events of high society that accumulates in their fireplace - he gives just enough details to get his audience’s imagination to soar and do the job for him.

They all also assumes he brought back treasures from the east, when in fact all he did pick up was scars he doesn’t want to talk about, and languages; a little bit of Chinese, a little bit of Japanese, nothing that would actually let him keep a conversation going, but enough to fool people at home into thinking he’s mastered the language.

“If anyone there actually knows Chinese we’ll be in trouble,” Billy mumbles in the carriage taking them towards the venue that evening. “My Chinese is a bit rusty, and yours is…” he pauses, “which part of China did you even visit to pick up that dialect?”

“It’ll be fine,” Goody says reassuringly. “You can speak Korean if you want to. It doesn’t matter, I’ll pretend to understand and translate it into something appropriate.”

“They don’t even really sound the same,” Billy says, because the closer they get the more he feels like picking on the potential problems with the plan, he blames the dress; he doesn’t usually get nervous.

“I doubt they’ll hear a difference,” Goody says and Billy silently agrees.

“They won’t find it strange that you are attending when you’ve been ignoring all other invitations this year?”

“They already think I am a little bit eccentric,” Goody says with a shrug. Billy has been looking at him, he’s cleaned up wearing clean and nice clothes, beard trimmed neatly and hair washed, and Billy tries hard not to think of him as looking particularly dashing this evening; just because he is wearing a dress doesn’t make him a heroine of a book. Goody doesn’t look the part of an eccentric youngest son, squandering away his parents money this evening, and Billy is finding it hard to look away.

“Making rare appearances at these events will keep up my mystique,” Goody continues, and ensuring we get more invitations, you never know when we might need to attend something else for our work.”

When they met Goody had told him _“I’m not a private detective, that’s more Chisolm’s game, but sometimes I get hired to do the job.”_ Even after all this time Billy still isn’t sure how Goody’s clients find out about his work, or even why he started doing it in the first place. He lives in his parents’ townhouse since they rarely leave their estate in the countryside, and they also pay him an allowance for other living expenses. Billy isn’t sure if they know about Billy or if the allowance was always large enough for two people; he is leaning towards the latter. And Goody when they don’t have a client seems happy enough to just spend his time in the library in the house, but he supposes even Goody might get bored of it. Billy sure knows he goes a little bit stir-crazy when they haven’t had a client for a while.

Goody has a knack for finding and acquiring already stolen goods, and it was the job he was most often hired to do, and the reason he had told Billy he wasn’t strictly a private detective, though sometimes they did that as well, the cases Goody deemed too interesting to refer to Chisolm.

Work this time brought them to the unveiling of the late Mr. Fetherstonhaugh’s collection, which was to be held in his old house. It of course would include a ball and dinner arranged by Fetherstonhaugh’s grandchildren Richard and his sister Janice. Goody and Billy’s particular interest however was one of the pieces in the collection which their client really wanted returned to him.

It was their best opportunity to acquire it, and it had in Goody’s opinion called for a very elaborate ruse, which explained why Billy was in this dress, feeling uncomfortable. 

He looks out the window of their carriage at the rain that starts to fall on the cobbled narrow London streets.

Soon, too soon, they arrive at the entrance, a queue of carriages and valets carrying large umbrellas ferrying in the guests inside. Goody steps out first, puts on his hat and then holds out a hand towards Billy. He hesitates for a moment, temporarily forgetting himself before he grasps Goody’s hand, its warm he feels even through two pairs of gloves, and lets himself be helped out of the carriage, which he realizes he kind of needed the assistance because of the skirt and he almost stumbles, but Goody steadies him, Billy’s chest constricting in a strange way.

He lets Goody link their arms together as they walk up the steps, the valet keeping pace beside them holding the black umbrella over their heads and the smattering of rain against it is a familiar noise in the otherwise unfamiliar situation.

Billy tenses up as Goody shows off the invitation and spins the lie they’ve decided on, Goody has a way with words and can be quite persuasive; Billy is so used to it and usually tries to pay attention but now he is too tense, too aware of everything around them and ready to - to do what he isn’t quite sure. But every muscle in his body is taut and he is trying to surreptitiously look around to calculate exit points; there is a staircase to their left leading to the floor above and a corridor to the side of the staircase, and possibly a door somewhere at the end of it, and then the large door in front of them where the other guests ahead of them are entering through.

Soon Goody tugs on his arm and they walk forward, Goody speaking to Billy in Chinese, stumbling over the words and Billy can’t piece together what he means, but after a few steps Goody switches back to English.

“We’ll see a small portion of the exhibit now, before the dancing and dinner and then we’ll get to see the rest. They walk past a couple standing near the door to the other room, so Billy answer in Korean, even though Goody won’t understand it, he probably wouldn’t have understood if Billy answered in Chinese anyway - they had been to very different parts of China.

As soon as they enter the first room they are immediately swarmed by the other guests, curious about Billy who stays silent, and he feels Goody’s grip on his arm tighten at first as they still try to keep moving around the room, while Goody answers questions and Billy stays silent except for when Goody turns to him and asks something in Chinese, and Billy responds in Korean. 

As Goody steals most of the attention being the translator and natural born attention seeker it gives Billy time to look at the exhibit as they slowly move through the room. He eventually spots a small owl intricately carved in bone, no taller or wider than the palm of Billy’s hand, looking nothing special in among the other stolen things on the table - but it’s just one of them and their client had said it was a pair.

At the other end of the room there is a door opening into the next room, the doorway darkened and a rope hangs across barring entry, or at least suggests that its off limits, a rope isn’t really going to stop Billy. Although he can’t slip away right now. Goody had suggested that once people realized they wouldn’t be able to get anything from talking to Billy one on one the attention would be diverted, especially since Billy was at the moment pretending to be a woman.

“You think the dancing will be a distraction?” Billy had asked earlier. “What if they want to dance with me?”

“I’ll make sure you won’t have to dance,” Goody had said.

As they are herded into the ballroom he listens to Goody talk about him, weaving together the lies and excuses they had prepared.

“She travelled here with her father who sadly fell ill during the journey, and they have been cooped up in their suite for the past two weeks as he’s recovering.” Goody is saying. Billy listens with half an ear as he watches Goody grab two flutes of champagne off of a plate carried by one of the waiters. Billy wishes that had could have been his disguise, but the staff had made no new hires for this event, which was strange, but Goody had simply shrugged it off and said “the problem with dressing up as part of the staff anyway is that they expect you to do the job, and I worry that if you are caught you might stab someone for scolding you.” which was a ludicrous worry, Billy had wanted to say, if there wasn’t precedent - but that guy had been a straight up asshole, and Billy had waited until they were getting out of there before stabbing him in the hand.

“An old acquaintance of mine put them in touch with me,” Goody says, “and I promised to escort her to this event as even they had heard of Fetherstonhaugh’s collection and that included objects from her country. She so badly wished to see the collection and was very sad to have to miss it.” Surprisingly it seems as if people buy this explanation, which is a relief.

Billy can understand Goody’s logic about dressing up as one of the guests, and a woman as well, his excuse of simply getting lost would be that much easier to buy. “But it is going to be hard sneaking around in a dress,” Billy had said. To which Goody had replied with such earnestness: “I have full belief in your skills.” Billy had felt warmed by that statement, proud even.

He sips a little from the glass Goody hands him, as the small band starts playing and the dancing begins. The attention on Billy starts to fade a little, but there is still some who are curious as they pull back to the side of the ballroom.

Next to him Goody asks something in Chinese and Billy replies half in Chinese half in Korean and the look on Goody’s face doesn’t reveal at all that he doesn’t understand instead he just turns to the men and spins a completely different answer.

“She doesn’t feel comfortable with our dances,” Goody says. “And besides I can’t let her out of my sight, I did make a promise to care for her.”

Instead they find two chairs and sit down, people eventually start to drift off, as they can’t converse with Billy without Goody present the interest dies. Billy is about to attempt to sneak away, when after two dances and the third about to start an elderly gentleman and a woman Billy supposes is his wife come by them.

“Robicheaux, I didn’t expect to see you here. And not even dancing, you are making a lot of young ladies very disappointed.”

“I hardly think they would be interested,” Goody says, apparently Billy is the only one noticing the way small groups of women have been eyeing Goody since they arrived. Goody might think he’s not an eligible bachelor, what with being the youngest son, his only income - at least as far as the public’s knowledge - the allowance sent by his parents, and no other prospects. But Billy gets the feeling based on the slightly dark looks sent his way, that he is currently a major stumbling block for them to get closer to Goodnight Robicheaux. 

“And what about your interest?” the man asks. Billy feels his stomach twist uncomfortably and he tries to ignore the feeling before he glances at Goody, and notices the tight line of his mouth and then with a shake of his head he smiles crookedly.

“Tonight my interest is purely academical,” Goody says, and something unravels inside of Billy and he looks away as Goody continues by saying: “I’ve wanted a look at Fetherstonhaugh’s collection for a long time.”

The man leaves their side not long after that, and Billy can finally slip away with an excuse made in Chinese about needing the powder room, and Goody making a show of asking one of the waiters for directions, which he relays in Chinese back to Billy for appearance sake since Billy doesn’t need it.

Billy slips back inside the other room, there’s a couple of stragglers still in the room, but Billy makes his way around pretending to look at all the objects once more and then without hesitation picks up the small owl statuette, slipping it inside the pocket underneath all the skirts. Then he makes his way towards the doorway to the other room, at the same time as the stragglers walk through into the ballroom.

A rope isn’t much of a barrier to keep someone out, especially not when the rooms on both sides of the doorway are empty, however with the dress it is a bit trickier Billy thinks standing before it and trying to lift his leg, before he spots the hook to unhook the rope, he does so, slips inside, and as he steps to the side of the doorway he lets the rope drop to the floor. The lamps in the larger room are turned off, but light spills in from the room Billy just left. To his left tables are lined up in three rows, along the walls and one row in the middle, the opposite wall juts out and stops before cutting the whole room of leaving a wide opening to the rest of the room, where there also seems to be more tables. 

Turning to his left and walking inside his eyes get used to the low light, and if he needs to he has matches in his pocket. The tables he walks past have artfully set up the items from the collection though there seems to be little in the way of organizing. Most of the things appear to be from Egypt or the region nearby, but there are also pieces much more familiar to Billy and even objects from the Americas. When Goody had explained who the late Fetherstonhaugh was he had mentioned that he had travelled around some in his youth, but most of his collection had been purchased from people who had already taken the things from their country of origin.

Billy’s lips thin as he frowns and has to prevent his itching fingers from reaching out and just start picking up the stolen goods. Instead he keeps moving, scanning the tables in the low light, until he finally spots it, the second owl. It’s on a table in the corner furthest from the doorway, almost hidden behind a vase in white with a blue pattern of a dragon.

He’s reaching out for it when he hears a door open on the other side of the wall, and low voices mumbling. Biting his lip and holding his breath, Billy carefully walks towards the end of the wall, where he can see light flicker.

“Where is it?” one voice says, and Billy reaches the opening and crouches down to look around the edge of the wall. Two men, one wearing a brown robe with the hood up, shadowing his face, the other in a fancy suit, both carrying lanterns. They are facing each other standing still, when the man in the suit starts to look around, Billy pulls back behind the wall and considers moving back to the owl.

“Other side of the wall,” the second man says, and Billy curses silently in his mind. He can hear their footsteps coming, and with their lanterns they are sure to see him. He could stay, pretend to just be lost, but he doesn’t like that, its to passive, and he doesn’t trust it will work.

He starts sprinting towards the doorway instead. One of the voices behind the wall calls out a “who’s there?!”

It’s hard to run in the dress, but he has a head start and easily runs out into first the other exhibition room hearing the voice again shout and running steps behind him, but Billy slips through the next door and back into the ballroom where he, panting a little bit but trying to hide it, quickly blends in with the crowd as he starts to scan people for Goody.

***

“Goodnight Robicheaux, I didn’t expect to see you here,” a voice suddenly says behind Goody - he has lost count of how many people have greeted him thus so far - and he turns around to face the tall lanky gentleman.

“Ah, Rockefort,” Goody says, “They let you out of the hospital then.”

“I couldn’t miss this, I would have left whether they’d let me or not. Fortunately they were discharging me anyway.”

“So your issue is quite cleared up now?” Goody asked. He had only heard of the hospitalization in passing, and gathered from the lack of information on the reason that it had to be something rather embarrassing. “You know, I do have this other miracle cure from the east, my companion swears on it, effective against almost anything.” he watches Rockefort blanch slightly.

“Um… There’s no need,” he says. “I do believe that fish you sold me gave me indigestion.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but there’s no fish in this one.”

“I believe I will give it a pass anyway.”

Goody shrugged, and noted the small owl stitched on Rockefort’s lapel.

“I saw that same owl design on a jacket over at Leni Frankel’s place earlier” Goody says, conversationally, if he has someone to talk to it doesn’t look too strange that he is just standing there alone, but Rockefort’s expression change into a confused one.

“I haven’t heard that name,” he slowly says.

“Oh,” Goody says. “I was wondering if perhaps it was a recent trend since its the second time I see it. You know I really can’t keep up.” He looks away from the owl and up at Rockefort’s face again, and now the man looks less confused but there is something flustered about the way his eyes flicker to the sides and he hurriedly says.

“I don’t know either, I hadn’t noticed it to be honest,” he says in a rush and then adds: “I have to go and ask Nancy where Richard is, I haven’t greeted him yet and thanked him for the invitation.”

“Yes of course,” Goody says, a little taken aback but he nods as Rockefort takes his leave. Before he can ponder it anymore though Billy is suddenly back by his side - literally as the other man is practically plastered against Goody’s side, and Goody has to repress a shiver. Then Billy is panting in his ear, and he can’t quite stop the second shiver, but he focuses on Billy’s words instead.

“You should dance with me,” Billy says in a rush straight in Goody’s ear and he still doesn’t quite seem to understand the words. He turns his head to look at Billy. Billy doesn’t do big emotions, it’s all subtle in the tilt of his mouth or the lift of an eyebrow, but now Goody can see the tenseness of his mouth, the way his eyes are flickering subtly to the sides like he is holding himself back from looking around. 

“But I-” Goody starts to say because he did spend all that time making it clear Billy doesn’t know any western style dances, in fact he was pretty sure that was the truth as well, but before he can finish Billy is dragging him without making it look like he is dragging him, towards the dance floor where a waltz is playing. And as they take their positions Goody remembers the other reasons he should have protested.

The first time Goody saw Billy his world had stopped and then started again, everything the same and yet not. He had promised himself he would stop, that he would stop finding other men handsome and beautiful, but then he had seen Billy and there was no denying that feeling in his stomach, in his chest, the way his heart had skipped, the way he suddenly felt like he was breathing easier. He had been dying of thirst in a dessert and then Billy had shown up and changed everything. And in a way he had fulfilled his promise to himself, he never looked at another man again, why would he when no one could even come close to Billy.

And now looking at Billy in this dress with hair done up - thanks to their neighbor Emma - with two hairpins and a couple of fake white flowers, and with red lips and black lashes Goody thinks he can never ever again pretend to notice women. It feels as if his chest is being torn apart from yearning, and he struggles to keep it from showing on his face as he takes Billy in his arms through the first steps of the dance, marveling at the way Billy follows him as he takes the lead.

He has to look away from Billy, because he is struggling to breath with the way his chest is constricting. Instead his eyes fall on the doorway to the exhibit which Richard Fetherstonhaugh is stepping through, the man’s eyes scanning the crowd, looking for someone, probably his sister Goody thinks, and before turning again sees the man turn back around and walk into the exhibit room again.

“I wasn’t able to get both,” Billy is mumbling under his breath and Goody has to focus on him again. “I was interrupted, but we can hopefully get it later.”

“Of course,” Goody murmurs. “As long as no one notices the first one missing, you did get that one right?”

He’s met with a scoff.

“Of course, and it’s such a mess in there, no organization at all, I’d be surprised if they can keep track of all the pieces.”

They continue dancing, flawlessly.

“You know, I did tell everyone you didn’t know any of the dances over here, it wouldn’t hurt you to make a mistake or two,” Goody points out. He’s barely finished when pain shoots up from his foot as Billy grinds down with his foot on top of Goody’s, and he almost yelps. 

“Like this?” Billy asks, Goody almost wants to say ‘ _sweetly’_ and goes to the next step, something challenging in his eyes, and while he’s not grinning there is a hint of one, and Goody thinks he would be grinning if they were alone. Goody’s foot throbs and he’s a little unsteady the next couple of steps.

“Yeah,” Goody says with some effort to not sound affected. “I didn’t know you’d be so good at dancing.”

“I did spend more than a year here before you met me,” Billy says with a shrug. “You don’t know all I got up to during that time.”

Something in Goody’s chest twists uncomfortably. And he isn’t sure he can quite keep his expression neutral, but Billy’s own changes from the slight teasing tilt of his eyebrows to something softer.

“I did have to ask Emma about following though.”

“Ah.”

Goody knows they aren’t alone on the dance floor, that there are people dancing all around them, but when he looks at Billy’s face everything else disappears and he wishes that this moment could last forever because once it ends it will never happen again. He will know what it is like to have Billy in his arms, following where Goody leads, only to never have it again. He doesn’t know if he should remind himself of that fact or if it will be more painful to just let himself enjoy the moment until the end. And then Billy smiles, and all other thoughts disappear from his mind and he stumbles over his own feet, making Billy laugh and his earlier thoughts are gone because all pains and worries are nothing in the face of Billy’s laughter.

The dance ends far too soon and as the music dies down the announcement of dinner is made and everyone starts making their way to the dining hall.

***

Dinner is way too long in Billy’s opinion, but he tries his best not to fidget or seem restless or anxious. Once it is over the music starts up again, and those who want may dance; or look at the rest of the collection. Goody takes Billy’s arm, and they follow the crowd to the rest of the collection. 

Lamps have been lit inside the room now and it’s easier to see the things and how little care has been made into the displays. He and Goody walk at the back of the crowd while the woman Billy had been told was Nancy Fetherstonhaugh talked about some of the objects on display. He stops next to the table he had seen the owl on earlier, but is now brought up short. It’s no longer there, Billy bites his bottom lip staring at the spot where he had seen the owl statuette earlier, unconsciously his other hand goes to his pocket where the first one is still resting. 

Goody must sense something Billy he feels a hesitant hand on his arm and he looks back at him and shakes his head minutely. Goody frowns but the crowd is moving forward again and Billy doesn’t want to say anything with this many people around, not even in Chinese.

The other end of the room the one Billy hadn’t been able to check out looked much the same with the set up, but there was also another door. When they came around to it Billy sidled up to it with his back to it and tried the handle of the door. Making sure the people around them were paying attention to Nancy Fetherstonhaugh as she explained something on one of the tables Billy grabs Goody and opens the door at the same time letting them both slink through it he closes it quietly.

He looks around them briefly as they stand on the landing of a long staircase. Billy looks back at Goody who is looking at him with a bewildered expressing, head tilted slightly.

“You grab it already?” Goody asked. “I didn’t even see you do it.”

Usually he feels a sense of pride whenever Goody seems impressed with him, but as he didn’t actually do anything this time he mostly feels disappointed. He shakes his head.

“It was gone,” Billy says.

“Gone?”

Billy nods.

“I was interrupted earlier by two people who also seemed to be looking for something,” Billy says and starts to head down the stairs. “If they were looking for the same thing.”

“They might be wondering were the other one is, the one you have.”

Billy nods.

“There must be another way out of this place, I don’t think we should linger longer than necessary.”

“But we only have one,” Goody says. 

Billy bites his lip again. He doesn’t like it either, but when Goody had pointed out who Richard Fetherstonhaugh was while they were eating, Billy had recognized him as the man he’d seen earlier. If he was found having one of the statuettes he was definitely going to be the one in trouble, and no one except Goody would believe him if he accused the host of the evening of taking the other statuette, after all why would he need to sneak around and do it.

“Are we in the basement?” Goody asks suddenly when they reach the bottom of the stairs. 

Billy looks around at the stone around them, and yes they seem to be. Strangely a line of candles are lit all along the wall in one direction, but the hallway is otherwise empty. He considers the other direction its darker ahead out of the circle of light, but they could take one of the candles with them. Before he can voice his thoughts however Goody has already started down the illuminated path and Billy follows him. The dress brushing against the dirty dusty floor, and Billy still isn’t quite used to the noise it is making.

They walk past a couple of crossroads, and locked doors until eventually the candles end, the hallways takes a sharp turn to the right, but there are no more candles, just three empty bookshelves lined up along the wall in front of them. Mostly empty, Billy notes as he looks closer; there are some tools on one shelf, a hammer, a box of nails, a screwdriver. And on the bottom shelf a pile of what looks like old yellow newspapers.

Billy takes one of the candles from the wall and they start walking down the rest of the darkened hallway until they reach a door, but when Goody tries opening it the door turns out to be locked from the other side with a chain that clinks and jingles when it is pushed.

“Well this was a dead end,” Goody grumbles.

They have only taken a few steps, when suddenly there’s a strange noise followed by voices. Billy pulls back to stand pressed against the wall, blowing out the candle, and opposite from him Goody presses himself against the wall. Billy looks towards the bookshelves, they are far enough away from them to not be seen in the darkness, but close enough that Billy can see the middle bookshelf swinging open slowly, making a noise the squeaking noise of hinges in need of oil. Two people in hooded robes walk out through the hidden door one of them saying, “we really should do something about those hinges.” 

The bookshelf slowly swings shut, and Billy turns to look at Goody while the footsteps slowly gets quieter as they walk further away and soon it is completely quiet again.

“A secret passage?” Goody asks. The two of them walk towards the bookshelf and start to look closely at it, trying to figure out how to open it up.

“Lets just try to pull it open,” Billy says. Squeezing his fingers in between the two shelves with some difficulty, and Goody does the same. They are able to pull it open and Billy walks in before Goody. Hand lifted to a hairpin, but the room on the other side is empty.

“Maybe this is the basement next door?” Goody muses as they let the bookshelf with the squeaky hinges swing shut once more. They are in a small antechamber with a long blue mat running from where they entered to the archway a couple of feet away, a owl chiseled into the keystone. To their left is a large mirror and on either side of it hang blue and silver banners with a white owl on each; to their right stands a large wardrobe; on either side of the archway burns candles in wall mounted candelabras.

“What makes you think so?” Billy asks. “Because of how far we walked?”

“Well, that and Richard Fetherstonhaugh’s house is next door to his grandfather’s. They were both raised by him after their parents disappeared.”

“Disappeared,” Billy mumbles as they start to walk forward. He wonders if that’s what his parents say happened to him, that he disappeared. Whenever someone asks: _“what happened to your gifted son, the scholar you even sent to the west to continue his studies.”_ he supposes it makes more sense to say that he disappeared rather than admit that he had let them down. Betrayed them for the fascination with a white man who brought him to strange basements.

His whole life he had craved excitement he didn't find as the dutiful son he was buried in studies, no wonder then that he had been enticed by Goody who had seemed unburdened with duty and did whatever he wanted.

The next room is also narrow, but longer, from the ceiling hangs two chandeliers with lit candles, and the walls are lined with bookshelves; more candelabras and larger banners, these ones in red and with golden owls.

“What is this?” Billy mumbles, because in the middle of the room stands what looks like a long trough made of obsidian rock, and at the other end of it is an altar.

“I have no idea,” is the only response he receives from Goody as Billy reaches the altar, there are unlit candles, a bowl filled with feathers and what Billy suspects might be claws. A small stuffed snowy white owl is perched on a branch sitting on the altar.

Billy tries the door next but its locked so they start to complete the lap around the room instead, Billy looking curiously at the bookshelves filled with thick dusty books and rolls of paper next to a frankly ridiculous number of owls made in various materials, but mostly seem to be carved out of stone or wood; or made out of ceramic.

“Why owls?” Goody mumbles.

They have walked a full lap of the room when Billy hears something that sounds suspiciously like a lock being unlocked, and he looks towards the door, which is slowly being opened.

Grabbing Goody by the arm he drags him with him as he rushes back into the antechamber and throws the door open to the wardrobe, pushing Goody in first to make space in between the robes hanging there, and then following. At the same time as the squeaking hinges of the secret passage can be heard Billy closes the wardrobe door leaving only the smallest of gaps for him to look through.

Behind him Goody presses up against his back to look through the gap as well and they both can see the procession of robe clad people walk inside the room, but instead of the hoods they are all wearing large masks of horned owls.

Once everyone in masks have walked past, Billy pushes open the wardrobe door a little bit more so that they can crane their heads and look through to the other room, where everyone in robes are lining up on both sides of the trough, and in front of the altar stands two other people also in masks, and the door behind them has been left open.

It is by far the most bizarre sight Billy has ever seen and he isn’t quite sure what he is actually looking at while two of the people closest to the altar lift a barrel and start pouring red wine into the trough.

“Oh Great Owl!” the man behind the altar calls out. “Your humble servants have gathered before you!” The crowd calls out “Great Owl” in a chorus. 

Behind Billy Goody shifts a little on his feet, and rubs himself up against Billy’s back, which takes away a little of his attention from the people who have started chanting in what sounds like Latin, but it’s been two years since he tried studying it, and he doesn’t remember much at this point. 

So instead he is suddenly very aware of how close they are standing, it feels almost closer than when they were dancing. He isn’t sure when the attraction started, when just a touch or a smile from Goody could have his heart beating faster, he had attributed him running away with the man to fascination and a desire for freedom. But perhaps a small part of him had always found himself attracted to the man from the moment they met. Perhaps it had informed his decision - a decision made after an insignificant amount of time thinking it over - to some degree, perhaps it had been born out of finally feeling like someone was respecting him, the way Goody had listened to and believed Billy despite not even knowing him.

Goody had held out a hand and offered a partnership, and Billy had taken a chance and gone with him. And slowly during these past two years something had started to grow in Billy’s chest. There is a want inside of him, something burning and he doesn’t have the guts to mention anything because he can’t lose what they have together. Even if there are times when he catches Goody looking, sees expressions that look just like want flicker past on the man’s features when he looks at Billy, but this is a chance Billy can’t take. So he has to hold himself back.

It is hard though, standing pressed up against each other, feeling the heat of Goody against his back, and his breathing down Billy’s neck. He swallows hard and closes his eyes for a moment. For just a brief moment he lets himself picture what would happen if he turned around. Imagines putting a hand on Goody’s side, or his cheek, touching him. 

His chest burns with yearning and he has to force himself to focus back on the here and now. Open his eyes and look out at what’s happening in the room.

The masked people chant and pause to drink, then chant a bit more, drink a bit more, before the person behind the altar leading the ceremony pulls out the second owl statuette.

“And now with our blood-” he starts in English.

“Where’s the second one?” The person next to him behind the altar, this one a woman’s voice, interrupts.

“Second one?”

“Yes, there’s supposed to be two.”

“I thought we could use either one.”

“No we need both or it won’t work, I told you.”

“But I didn’t see the other one upstairs.” The woman lets out a sigh so loud Billy can hear it on the other side of the room.

“I’ll go and fetch it.” She turns to the gathered people: “And don’t drink any more of the wine before I get back.”

Billy hears a disappointed groan from one of the people in the crowd, and the woman turns towards that person, Billy can’t tell if she’s glaring because of the mask, but he assumes she is. Before she walks past them and into the antechamber, pulling a lever, and the secret door starts to open at the same time as Billy hears Goody sneeze behind him.

He squeezes his eyes shut, holding his breath. For a second he holds a desperate hope that the sound of the hinges will have covered the noise; but if he can hear the other man sneeze upstairs in his office when Billy is down in the basement where he trains, then surely not even squeaking hinges will have done the job.

He opens his eyes again and the woman has stopped and turned towards the wardrobe.

“What was that?” she asks and steps towards the wardrobe. 

Billy grabs the sleeve of Goody’s suit and throws open the wardrobe door with his other hand. The woman has to take a step back or risk getting hit in the face. Billy and Goody jump out of the wardrobe. Billy pushing the woman to the floor, her mask flying off her head but Billy doesn’t have time to see her face. They rush through the open door, and Billy lets go of Goody’s arm as they start running down the corridor.

Behind them Billy hears the woman as well as a man’s voice shouting: “Catch them!”

They run faster - Billy lifting up as much of his dress as possible with one arm to run better - past the staircase leading back to the exhibit and ballroom. The steps would only slow them down, although getting back into a crowd would have been better. Instead they continue running down the dark hallway which slowly grows darker.

Goody gets a little ahead of Billy, the advantage of pants Billy thinks bitterly. Eyes slightly used to the dark Billy can sort of make out the wall in front of them and starts to try and slow down. In front of him Goody runs with his hands out to catch himself on the wall and push away before grabbing Billy’s arm and pulling him to the side.

Behind them the sound of people running grow closer. Billy and Goody turn left and hurry down the new corridor, and find a door after only a few feet. Thankfully this one is unlocked and they come out into the open air again. A short staircase to their right takes them up to the street level.

They stand there, disoriented for a moment, Billy thinks they might be behind the venue, as on the other side of the narrow street are the backs of more houses. He grabs the side of his skirt and rips a long tear up the side of it, and does the same on the other side. He shivers a little in the cold air.

Loud voices come from behind them and they start running again heading to the left. The earlier rain has turned into snow, and large white flakes fall all around them and the street is wet and slippery.

“Why does this keep happening to us?” Billy grumbles and takes a right turn at the next intersection, leading them onto another identical narrow cobbled and empty street.

“Now you’re exaggerating,” Goody protests. “We’ve only accidentally stumbled over a secret society having a get together once before.”

“Two times is two too many.”

Ahead of them the street open up onto a wider road, and opposite it spread out was one of the parks, Billy had no idea which one, all he could see was tall dark trees barely visible from the street lamps.

“There they are!” loud voices shouted behind them. Next to Billy Goody was panting hard, and Billy suddenly slipped on the stones. Colliding with Goody who grabbed him and steadied them, avoiding having them both topple over.

They rushed across the street when hooves joined in, and Billy looked behind him and saw a cab driven by one man in an owl mask. He briefly wondered as he looked ahead of himself again how the original driver had reacted to having his carriage stolen by people in masks.

They didn’t get far into the the park as the carriage behind them caught up, and men in masks jumped off of it, surrounding them quickly. 

Breathing hard Billy crouches down, slipping two knives out of their sheets around his lower legs, before rising up again standing back to back with Goody.

They and the people in masks are brightly illuminated by two lanterns on the front of the carriage. Everyone silent for a moment, broken only by the horse letting out a snort and tossing its head. Around them snow continues to fall, and everyone standing still before a silent signal and the circle of men in masks closing in on them.

Billy stops the first attacker with a kick to his stomach making him double over and gasp for breath. Billy knees him in the chin, sending him backwards he slips on the wet grass and falls on his back.

Two men come at him at once on each side of him. Billy buries his knife in the stomach of the one to his right. The left one side steps and throws a punch at Billy. He is a split second too slow to move and while the first only glances over his face as he does move out of the way, a ring cuts him above the eyebrow. The man passes by Billy on his left side and Billy spins and kicks him in the back of the knee, making him tumble over.

He has enough time to look at Goody who is holding his own against two opponents.

Billy’s arm is grabbed by a strong hand and Billy spins around, lifting his leg trying to get in a good spinning kick, but he slips on the grass that is quickly turning into a muddy mess. His legs connect with the man holding him, but it's not powerful enough as Billy staggers a little.

He manages to wrench his arm free but suddenly there is several men closing in on him. He holds up his remaining knife and slashes one attacker across the chest and he backs away. He slashes against another attacker, but his wrist is grabbed and in a tight grip. He sees something glinting in the light of the lanterns out of the corner of his eye, he looks down just in time to see one of the attackers with a knife. He manages to move aside in time to avoid getting stabbed, but instead the knife slices his side, and he lets out a gasp as the pain starts to bloom.

He’s grabbed from behind, strong arms wrenching his own arms behind his back, can feel the blade of another knife against his throat, and he’s forced to drop his own knife.

“Stop or we’ll slit her throat,” the man behind Billy shouts to Goody. And Billy watches how Goody looks over at him and sees all the color drain from the man’s face, the fear that takes over his expression and Billy’s heart twists.

Their hands are quickly bound and they are thrown into the back of the carriage.

***

“Are you okay?” Goody asks, barely remembering to do so in Chinese. Billy has a cut over his right eyebrow, and is holding his side surreptitiously, and there is a knot of worry in Goody’s stomach.

“Shut up!” one of their captors snaps, slapping Goody across the cheek to make his point clear. Goody who can’t take his eyes off of Billy sees the dark look of absolute fury that Billy shoots the other man, and Goody is amazed their captor don’t just fall down dead from the intensity of the stare alone.

The carriage bounces and rocks, and Goody watches Billy bend forward, bound hands going up to his hair quick as lightning while their captor is looking at Goody, the owl mask he’s wearing making it a rather unsettling glare, and Goody wishes he would just take it off.

They are blindfolded, thick canvas bags pulled over their heads, but it’s not hard to keep track of the number of times they turn a corner, and Goody can tell they are back close to where they started when they are brusquely ushered out of the carriage and led up a short staircase.

Strong hands hold his arms as he’s led through a house, carpet muffling their footsteps as they are led deeper inside the house and in through another door. There he is pushed pushed down in a chair and the bags pulled off his head the first thing he sees is the large dead and stuffed eagle-owl perched on a bookshelf behind a large oak desk.

Goody looks to his side and Billy has been pushed down into the chair as well, the dress is in ruins, and some of his hair is hanging loosely around his face, though some is still held up. There is a worrying stain on his side and Goody bites his lip as he feels his stomach twist with worry.

Before he can say anything the door behind them opens and another man, slightly smaller than the two who escorted them inside, walks through the door, also wearing an owl mask he takes a seat on the other side of the desk, stapling his fingers together on top the tabletop. While the other two masked men leave the room.

“Goodnight Robicheaux,” the man says and Goody contemplates for a second if he should tell him that he can recognize the man’s voice and he should just remove the mask, but he decides not to. If Richard Fetherstonhaugh wants to believe he’s still anonymous then Goody will let him continue to believe so.

“There really was no need for violence,” Richard says, voice pleasant like he is talking about the weather.

“Well, we didn’t know that,” Goody says. “You were chasing us, defending ourselves seemed like the right thing to do.”

He wishes he could read Richard’s expressions, the silence is a little bit too long and he can’t tell what the man is thinking.

“Perhaps if you had stayed and allowed me to explain,”

“That would have been nice,” Goody lies. “I am sure it would have cleared up any questions I had. However I think a group of people wearing masks looking like owls, the masks are very well made I have to say,” Goody continues to ramble on, “freaked out my acquaintance here, and she decided to run and I really had no choice but to follow.”

“Understandable,” Richard says after a pause. At that moment however the door opens and yet another person enters the room.

“I can’t find the second one,” a woman’s voice says behind the owl mask as she strides up to the desk. “It’s a mess over there, nothing is organized if only Jackson had allowed us access earlier.” Goody recognizes her voice as Nancy Fetherstonhaugh, which he supposes in a way makes sense for both the siblings to be involved.

“Can you believe granddad’s lawyer refused to let us near the collection,” she says turning to Goody, and Goody blinks at her confused if she is expecting him to reply to that.

“We’ll just do it with the one we have then,” Richard says pulling out the owl statuette from his pocket.

“But it should be two of them,” Nancy protests. “The two should be anointed with the followers’ blood.”

“We can find the other one later and do it again then,” Richard says. “Our guests downstairs are getting restless. They paid for the privilege of being present when we change the world.”

Goody can’t help looking a little disbelieving at this, but after a glance at Billy’s stoic expressionless face he tries for a more neutral expression again.

“If they truly believed in The Great Owl, they would agree to wait until we’ve located the other statuette, what if it doesn’t work with just the one?”

“It can’t hurt to try,” Richard says. “We can’t delay much longer though.”

“Fine, but what about these two?” Nancy asks, pointing at Goody and Billy.

“Well, I was going to talk to Mr. Robicheaux. I’ve had dealings with his brother in the past, and I am sure the youngest is just as much a reasonable fellow as his brother.”

Goody stomach twists uncomfortably at the mention of his brother.

“He might even want to join our cause.” Richard says and turns his head to look at Goodnight who struggles to not reveal any of his thoughts on his face, which is hard because he is feeling very sceptical of everything he has seen so far.

“And what is it you are trying to do?” Goody asks, before he can stop himself, but he has been silent for way too long and can’t help himself sometimes.

“We are going to ask The Great Owl to bring magic back into the world,” Nancy Fetherstonhaugh says, as if that statement makes any sort of sense. Goody is glancing at Billy from the corner of his eyes again, and can see even he is struggling to stay expressionless. Goody is struggling as well.

“I’m sorry what?” he asks, and blinks a few times, and feeling very confused because what he heard couldn’t possibly be what she said.

“Magic,” Richard says. “We will return the stolen magic to the people.”

Goody really wants to ask what magic, but he manages to keep his mouth shut, exceedingly impressed with BIlly managing to keep up the charade that he can’t understand English.

“When the impostor queen ascended the throne she locked away all the magic,” Nancy says. 

“But that’s only 40 years ago,” Goody protests, he kind of wants to ask about the impostor queen bit as well, but this seems more important. “People should remember if there used to be magic and now there isn’t.” He could maybe buy that they were buying into this conspiracy if it had happened hundreds of years ago, but only 40 years ago?

“When she stole all the magic she stole all our memories of magic as well,” Richard explains.

“What about any written records?” Goody asks, trying to sound curious rather than what he’s actually feeling which is that he is listening to complete ludicrousness.

“The texts have been hidden behind a glamour,” Nancy says. Goody has more questions about how this stolen magic conspiracy is supposed to work both logistically - the whole world is affected, how? - and realistically, but Goody wonders if he pokes too many holes in it they’ll stop thinking he can be reasonable and decide on some other way to deal with him which is less favourable to Goody.

“And when we release magic back into the world we can bring our parents back and deal with the impostor queen,” Nancy says, and Goody thinks that it's a bit extreme to commit treason just to bring back their parents.

“And the owl will help you with this?” Goody asks.

“The Great Owl,” Nancy corrects him.

“Granddad always said the owls will protect us.” Richard says.

Goody wonders what else their granddad has told them; if he told them a story about magic to explain to two kids left alone by their parents without explanation; and if the story was told often enough that they started believing in it?

“We can talk more after the ritual,” Richard says, “and then perhaps you will be convinced to join us for the second one, when we find the other statuette.” He rises from his desk, and the tone of his voice sounds like he actually believes that Goody will be swayed by this, and he wonders how gullible the other people gathered in the basement are. When Richard stands up the collar of the robe slides down a little and Goody catches sight of the owl stitched onto the lapel on the man’s suit underneath.

“We’ll bring your friend here with us, just to ensure cooperation,” Richard says. “Although I do believe you won’t do anything, you are a gentleman after all. But just to be on the safe side I don’t think you should be alone in the same room.”

The first bit of actual logic Goody has heard in several minutes, but he wishes it wasn’t the case.

“Please explain to her that she has to come with us without any more resistance.”

Feeling very unhappy with how this is developing, Goody turns to Billy, who already knows what is going on so Goody just says a string of Chinese words without any real meaning. Billy turns to him and says one word in Korean, something Goody can’t understand literally, but there is steel and determination in Billy’s eyes, and he can guess that Billy just said a very emphatic no. Goody closes his eyes, he doesn’t want this either. Doesn’t want them to be split up. This whole thing has taken a turn he never could have predicted.

“It’s going to be fine,” he says in Chinese. 

Billy reluctantly gets up, but then stumbles and falls onto Goody’s chair, and Goody feels something long and thin and sharp drop into his lap, and he quickly hides it with his bound hands realizing it is Billy’s hairpin.

Goody cranes his neck and watches them leave, worry gnawing in his stomach as he sees Billy led out of the room, leaving Goody alone in the room. The first bit of good luck in a while and Goody wastes no time maneuvering the hairpin with its one sharp edge into a position where he can push it with his fingers and slowly start to saw at the ropes, thankful they were tied up with their hands in front of them because he can also rest his hands in his lap and actually see what he is doing.

It still takes a while however, the hairpin is only a little sharper than a table knife and the rope is thick, but he makes pretty good progress trying to not think too much or worry too much about Billy, but he’s doing a bad job of pretending, because all he can feel is worry. But he’s also feeling quite determined, and soon he’s cut through the ropes and can undo them and stands up, slipping the hairpin back into his pocket, he has to give it back to Billy later.

Now all he has to do is come up with a plan to get Billy and himself out of there. His eyes fall on the fire in the fireplace. Taking his eyes off the fire, but with the beginnings of an idea forming in his mind, he opens the door to the office and is met with sight of someone’s back.

The guard in owl mask turns around, surprised Goody assumes, he sure feels surprised himself, though he should probably have assumed they left a guard. Goody pushes the other man before he can do or say anything. Unprepared the man bounces into the wall on the other side and Goody proceeds to punch the man; his fist going through the side of the mask as he hits the man’s cheek.

The other man grunts, and Goody pushes down the uneasy feeling the mask gives him and punches again, this time breaking the beak of the mask hitting the man in the nose. Hands grab his arms and he is pushed against the doorjamb hard, and he grunts a little, pain blooming on his back, and because his arms are trapped tries to kick the man but he side steps. Goody starts sliding a little against the wood behind him, and he slips and falls onto his back through the open door. Grasping the other man by the front of the robe drags him with him. 

And using the momentum during their fall pushes the man flipping him over, and Goody falls to the floor with a grunt and all his air rushing out his lungs. A loud crash is heard and he cranes his head to see how the other man has crashed into the chairs, and broken it. 

Goody scrambles over at the same time as the man starts to rise, his owl mask sporting severe damage at this point. Goody grabs a chair leg and rising up on his knees swings it hard into the other man’s head once, and twice, pieces of the mask flying in every direction. The other man falls down on the floor unmoving.

He reaches down and feels for a pulse, finding it and confirming that he’s just unconscious. He gets up on his feet and waits for a beat, wondering it anyone heard the commotion, but the house is silent and he can’t hear any hurried steps approaching.

Goody quickly removes the robe from the unconscious man and pulls it over his own suit. His heart has slowed its rapid beating and he is given a moment to think. He still needs to save Billy, and he has a plan for it, but he can’t leave this man unconscious on the floor if he’s going to go through with it. He also can’t use the mask, it’s too damaged. He pulls up the hood to cover his face and then drags the man out of the office. Holding him under the armpits he manages to drag him all the way to the front door and out through it. There is a rosebush next to the front steps, and Goody tips the man over into it and then goes back inside.

Goody walks through the house’s first floor until he locates the staircase to the basement. After he knows where it is he returns to the office, where he opens the window and then using the tongs he lifts out a piece of burning wood and places it in the nearby bookshelf. He doesn’t feel good about burning books, but it is a necessary distraction.

Once the fire starts to grow he hurries towards the staircase down to the basement, opening the door he shouts.

“Fire!” He starts down the steps, it’s dark even with the light coming from the open door behind him and he has to told a hand on the wall to his left, when suddenly it disappears and he finds a door with a small window at the top, with bars and Goody looks through it and spots Billy.

“Billy,” Goody hisses. Billy looks up from where he is sitting on a chair gnawing on his ropes.

“Goody,” Billy says, and actually smiles. Goody’s heart leaps at the sight, and Billy comes up to the door.

“We don’t have much time,” Goody says, pushing the hairpin through the bars and Billy takes it with a murmured thanks. “I’ll be right back,” Goody says and before Billy can say anything starts to hurry down more steps. His chest feels lighter knowing where Billy is and that he is fine, the relief making him take the next steps two at a time. He almost collides with the door and pulls it open.

“Fire!” he shouts, interrupting the ritual. “Fire in the office!” he shouts. “He left through the window!” He sees Richard put down the owl statuette on the altar and let go of it. “You all have to get out right now!” Goody shouts, sounding as urgent as possible before turning and starting to run up the stairs again. Behind him he can hear footsteps start to run, and Richard shouting something, but he isn’t paying attention. Instead he stops by the door, pulling open the bolt he opens the door and slips inside, closing the door slightly while people start thundering upstairs.

He turns to Billy.

“Are you alright?” He asks. Unable to hide his worry as he looks him over. Billy has made short work of the rope and is putting the hairpin back in his hair.

“I’m fine,” Billy says, and Goody can see him grit his teeth. He starts to reach out, but stops himself and looks through the bars of the door instead.

“I need you to slip out with the crowd without being seen,” Goody says, not looking at Billy.

“What?” Billy asks.

“I have to go and get the other statuette,” Goody says.

“I will come with you,” Billy protests.

“You’re hurt,” Goody says. Almost the whole group have run past the door now, and Goody looks at Billy again. Billy who is looking at Goody with defiance in his eyes.

“That doesn’t matter,” Billy protests. “We are not splitting up.”

“Billy, please,” Goody says, feeling himself start to beg. “I need you to get out of here and head home. I will catch up with you. It’ll be easier to not be spotted if we move separately. You are better at sneaking than I am.”

Goody pushes open the door and back out through it, not taking his eyes off of Billy.

“Goody,” Billy says, stepping through the door as well. Goody puts a hand on Billy’s shoulder.

“I will see you soon.”

“You and your stupid plans,” Billy mutters and after one more look at Goody starts to hurriedly climb the stairs. Goody starts to walk down the stairs, but looks over his shoulder and sees how Billy is holding his side.

Goody bites his lip and continues down the stairs. He can’t go the other way out, can’t risk being seen. Billy he trusts will be able to slip outside, as long as the crowd is too busy with the fire, and Billy is usually good at sneaking. He also couldn’t let Billy come this way either, not down to where he can’t be sure there will be an exit open for him. What if there was a way of locking the secret door and Goody can’t open it? What if the other doors are barred? He can’t risk getting them both locked down there in the basement, can’t watch Billy slip away from him from blood loss.

He makes it down to the ritual room, which is empty thankfully, and he notices the owl statuette was left on the altar. He walks over to it.

“So much fuss over such a little thing,” Goody mutters as he picks it up and slips it into his pocket. “Magic,” he says with a scoff and walks across the room to the secret door. He wonders if Billy has made it away from the house, from the crowd without being seen and reminds himself again of the reason he decided they had to split up.

More luck is on his side as he opens the secret door, the hinges making the noise again and he wishes he could slip through a little more silently, but he assumes nobody will hear upstairs anyway. None of the candles are lit on the other side, and the passage is in complete darkness once the door behind him closes.

Resigning himself to his fate he starts walking forward. His eyes do their best to get used to the lack of light, but he still can’t really see in front of him. He holds out his hands and tries his best to at least walk in a straight line forward.

He imagines that Billy has made it out and is on his way to their house. He had to protect him, had to make sure Billy would get out of this mess Goody had led them into, perhaps it wasn’t really his fault that they stumbled over a secret society devoted to a imaginary owl god, but still. Goody was responsible for Billy, after all it was his fault that Billy had left the path he had been supposed to be on and for what?

He bounces against the wall to his left and he leans against it for a moment. His back is hurting a lot after the earlier tumble, and he suddenly feels very tired.

Billy takes care of Goody, and Goody takes care of Billy, they share everything like equals, but just as Goody holds back on some things he thinks Billy as well is holding back, waiting for something. And Goody; Goody is waiting as well, waiting for when Billy decides he has had enough and leaves because that is always what happens - or perhaps Goody is always the one to leave making him fear that the one time he refuses to leave will be the time the other person leaves.

He pushes away from the wall and starts walking again. The corridor feels much much longer like this, alone in the dark, and several times he has to pause and get his emotions back under control.

Eventually he reaches the wall at the end and he turns to his left looking for the door, and finding it unlocked he pulls it open and steps outside. 

Even more snow is falling now, large snowflakes landing in his hair and for the first time he wonders where his hat went. He probably lost it during the fighting he guess. He takes the stairs in two large steps and starts walking down the empty streets, though he can hear shouting from one street over, a lot of shouting. He walks until he can no longer hear it, and starts heading towards the townhouse. 

Two blocks from Fetherstonhaugh’s house he sees him. He isn’t sure how he spots him, but there he is, a dark haired man sitting curled together on the steps to a house on the other side of the street and Goody feels his heart stop as he hurries over.

Billy is sitting there, shivering, in the cold air, with white flakes of snow landing in black hair, holding his side.

“Oh cher,” Goody gasps. Reaching out with a hand as Billy cranes his head up to him. Goody puts his gloved hand against a cold cheek and crouches down, unable to hide anything in his expression. His heart in pain at seeing Billy like this, wearing a ruined dress and looking so cold and miserable and hurting.

“Goody,” Billy says, his voice breaking a little, and there is a small smile on his lips. “You are fine.”

“Who cares about me,” Goody says and starts to remove his jacket when Billy says: “I do,” with so much earnestness it makes Goody pause for a beat.

“Oh-”

“Someone has to,” Billy says with a shrug which has him gritting his teeth and Goody is back into action again taking off his jacket and wrapping it around Billy’s shoulders, before putting his arm as well around Billy’s shoulders, helping him up and letting Billy lean on him.

“Let’s go home,” Goody says.

“Home,” Billy says with a nod, warmth and happiness in his voice. They start walking, Goody still holding on to BIlly, and Billy letting him help him as they start walking home. Their home.

The townhouse had been so empty when Goody returned there after his travels. It wasn’t his, as it still belonged to his parents but with them rarely leaving their estate in the countryside he was allowed to live there, alone, which he had realized he did not like. And yet the kind of life his siblings led with a spouse and children - at last count Goody had ten nieces and nephews in total - didn’t appeal to him, and it wasn’t until Billy came into his life that he realized that what he wanted was companionship of a different kind. Although sometimes he looked at Billy and all he could do was feel want deep inside his chest, and he knew he was still wanting, but the life they had built over the two years it was enough. He had someone who was there for him, he had someone he could be there for. He could talk to Billy, have discussions, he had someone he could learn from. 

Goody was happy with his life and he was going to protect that happiness. But perhaps, he thought, to do so he had to confess his feelings before it was too late.

Pondering this they kept walking eventually reaching the townhouse.

Goody prepared the bath as soon as they arrived, refusing to let Billy do it.

“You should wash up first,” Billy said from the chair Goody had put him in. The water in the tub was steaming and Goody had lit a fire, as well as the kerosene lamps. A soft glow filling the room, and Billy is looking very tired and unusually pale.

“Absolutely not,” Goody protests.

“You are going to be stubborn about this aren’t you?” Billy asks and Goody nods. With a sigh Billy heaves himself up on his feet and Goody hurries over to steady him, and it makes him even more worried that Billy lets himself show weakness enough to let Goody steady him.

“You are going to have to help me get out of this dress.”

“I think it is more a rag now than a dress,” Goody says. Billy snorts, and then makes a pained grimace, and Goody tells himself to be silent as he steps behind Billy and starts unlacing the dress.

Once it is loose enough Billy takes a deep breath and then lets it out slowly, and Goody just watches while he breathes.

“Oh that feels better,” Billy murmurs. And Goody gets back to removing the dress with help from Billy. Goody can’t say he has much experience undressing someone wearing a dress. There is a lot of fabric, a lot of layers and pins in unexpected places keeping things in place. But eventually they manage to free Billy of everything, and suddenly Goody finds himself looking at Billy’s completely naked back, close enough to touch and he has to grasp his hands behind his own back. He doesn’t, shamefully, stop himself from watching Billy as he pads over to the tub.

Billy climbs into the rub, sinking down into the water which sloshes from side to side, a little of it falling onto the floor, but Goody is focused on the way Billy leans his head back against the rim, and closing his eyes, some of that tenseness leaving his face as he relaxes, with a loud content sigh. Billy’s arms are hanging over the edge of the tub on each side as he sits there and when Goody’s eyes travel down he spots the gash on his side and how it is starting to color the water a bit pink.

“The wound,” Goody says. It’s not the first time one of them needs to be stitched up without seeing a doctor, and there is needle and thread in a cabinet which Goody starts rummaging through.

“It can wait a bit,” Billy says from the tub. “It’s almost stopped bleeding on its own.” Goody ignores him and instead comes over carrying the supplies and sinks down on the floor.

“Watch your pants,” Billy says as Goody puts his knees in a puddle and he can feel the water start to seep through.

“They were ruined anyway,” Goody says. He slipped earlier during the fight and fell on the grass muddying the pants and getting a rip in one leg.

“Sit up a bit,” Goody says and Billy does as he’s told, and Goody reaches out with hands that tremble as he first touches Billy’s wet skin, and he has to take a deep breath to make them stop, not looking up at Billy’s face he starts stitching him up. It’s not a deep cut but it is a couple of inches long. He works in silence for a bit.

“I don’t want you to leave me,” Goody says suddenly, it just slips out, after having the words in his mouth for so long, banging on his teeth demanding to be let out.

“This scratch isn’t going to kill me,” Billy says, after a beat.

“That’s-” Goody swallows hard, once again forcing his hands to stop shaking. He stares at what he is doing while his heart is beating fast inside his chest. “That’s not what I meant.” 

He finishes with the last stitch, and says in a rush: “It’s quite selfish.” It is, and he knows he is a selfish person for wanting it. “I don’t want you to leave me and go back.” He closes his eyes but lifts his head and so when he opens his eyes again he is looking straight at Billy’s face. Billy’s face which is looking a little confused.

“That’s not really an option,” Billy says slowly. “I don’t think I can go back.” He is sitting up in the tub. Looking away from Goody towards the window, outside in the dark sky the snow keeps falling. “I don’t want to leave,” Billy says. Goody’s heart leaps in his chest and he bites his bottom lip.

“Did you think I was going to leave?” Billy asks looking back at Goody again.

“Well, I did make you wear a dress and you ended up having a not very great night and you got stabbed.”

“Only a little bit,” Billy interrupts, “its a scratch.”

Goody swallows. There is more he should say but the initial burst of courage seems to have gone again and he starts to get up on his feet when Billy says:

“It changed my life.” And Goody continues to kneel there on the floor next to the tub Billy leaning back again in it looking out the window. “Meeting you changed my life. Perhaps others wouldn’t say for the better, certainly I am a disappointment to my family, but.”

He looks back at Goody, and he’s taken aback by the look on Billy’s face.

“I am happy,” he says. “I’m happy here with you, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Goody closes his eyes for a moment.

“Our meeting was special,” Billy says, seems to emphasize it and Goody nods, opening his eyes again.

“It is,” he says. “That’s why it’s just for us.”

Something flashes past on Billy’s face, and then he smiles. Just a small smile, but it is enough, because he looks happy, so happy, with the way his eyes crinkle at the corners and Goody can’t stop himself. There is another spark of courage deep down in his stomach and he is going with it. Suddenly leaning up and over Billy, hands grasping onto the rim of the tub, pressing his lips against Billy’s and time stops.

For a brief moments everything is still Goody and the world holding its breath. And then tentative lips moving against his, a soft sigh, and hands grasping the front of Goody’s suit.

“Billy,” Goody mumbles against Billy’s mouth.

“Finally,” Billy whispers and tugs hard. Goody topples into the tub with a surprised yelp, the warm water drenching him immediately. Billy spreading his legs for Goody to fit in between them, and then they are kissing again.

Goody letting go of the edge of the tub and moving his hands to Billy’s hair, burying his fingers in soft black hair that feels like silk. Billy still holding on to Goody’s shirt as they kiss while the water slowly becomes cold but neither of them cares.

Goody will happily stay like this for the rest of his life.

*

Goody isn’t sure who is drawing most looks in the pub. They are quite close to Chinatown so he thinks that Billy shouldn’t be drawing that much attention, and so most of the people must be looking at the man sitting on the opposite side of the table from Goody and Billy, with his head shaved on the sides, and an intense expression which could rival Billy’s intense expressions.

“They were harder than expected to acquire,” Goody says sliding the two owl statuettes across the table towards the young man who had introduced himself as Red Harvest.

He doesn’t say anything back just studies the statuettes and then puts them inside a leather bag slung across his chest, taking out an envelope and sliding it across the table to Billy who accepts it and puts it in an inner pocket.

“They aren’t actually magic, right?” Goody asks. “Like they can’t actually bring magic back into the world.”

Red Harvest gives him a look that looks eerily similar to Billy’s “why are you so weird?”-look.

“No, of course not,” Red Harvest says.

“I’m just asking because we did run into some people who believed that.”

Red Harvest looks unimpressed.

“Well, they were wrong.”

“You know, if they aren’t anything special, then why did you travel halfway across the globe to retrieve them?” Goody asks.

Red Harvest looks at him for a moment and shakes his head.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

Goody opens his mouth to protest but he feels Billy’s hand on his knee under the table and he turns his head to Billy who gives him a minute shake of the head and so Goody shuts his mouth, he’s probably right.

“Are you going home now?” Billy asks instead.

Red Harvest hesitates, scrutinizing them for a moment, and then says. “I have some other business to attend to before I go home.”

“How are you going home?” Goody asks, curious.

“The same way I came here,” Red Harvest says with a shrug.

“And how did you do that?” Goody asks.

“There are ways,” Red Harvest says. “It’s not hard to stow away on a ship.”

“No, I guess not,” Goody says.

Red Harvest soon leaves without drinking anything. Goody and Billy stays a little longer so that Goody can finish his beer.

“Do you think you could teach me Korean?” Goody asks and sets down his beer. Billy tilts his head and regards Goody for a moment, his own glass already empty in front of him on the table. 

“You want to learn Korean?”

He doesn’t know how to say: _‘I want to get closer to you’_ without making it sound like the development last night doesn’t count as becoming closer; but he wants to be closer to Billy in every way.

“It struck me yesterday that it would be beneficial to communicate in a language no one around us would understand,” Goody says instead. “We are both familiar with French-” Billy snorts.

“I am,” Goody protests. “It’s just sometimes my pronunciation gets a bit muddled.”

“Of course,” Billy agrees, and Goody just scowls a little bit.

“What I wanted to say was that while we can converse in French we can’t know who around us can also understand.”

“And is that the only reason?” Billy asks, and Goody hesitates.

“I am curious,” Goody says finally, and a small smile graces Billy’s lips.

“I guess we can try,” Billy says and Goody smiles back at him.

Finishing his beer they leave and start sauntering back home.

“I asked Sam to keep an eye on the Fetherstonhaugh,” Goody says as they walk down the cobblestone street, last night’s snow has turned into slush; and he has to stop himself from offering his arm to Billy to help him across a puddle.

“You tell him everything that happened?” Billy asks, and it takes Goody a moment to realize that Billy most likely is just referring to the incident, and not actually them making out in the bathtub.

“The important details only,” Goody says. Glancing around them and noticing that there are very few people around, he grabs Billy and pulls him into the nearby alley, hiding them away behind a couple of large crates.

“I left out some recent developments,” Goody says, leaning back against the wall and pulling Billy close.

“Goody,” Billy hisses, but then a grin slips through. “What if someone sees?” Though he doesn’t make any move to get away from Goody, and Goody knows he could easily get away if he wants to.

“This will only take a moment,” Goody says before tilting his head to the side and leans in to steal a quick kiss. Their hats colliding and his own is saved by the wall behind him, and Billy catches his own in his other hand.

“Mmmh, really?” Billy whispers when they pull apart. “Only a moment?”

“Maybe two moments,” Goody says stealing another kiss.

“Or three,” Billy says pressing his lips against Goody’s and he sighs into the deepening kiss.


End file.
